Dogonit!
by Do the Gabriel
Summary: Johnny and Henry, the station's mascot, do not get along. And when Johnny takes things a bit too far, everyone suffers. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Doctors Brackett and Early must set aside their differences for the greater good.


Dogonit

Johnny Gage shoveled chili into his waiting mouth like his life depended on it. "This schtuff eh itty 'ood." He commented. Stares from all around the table.

"Excuse me, _what_?" Cap was sick and tired of his men speaking with their mouths full all the time.

Johnny swallowed hard and took a long swig of milk. "I _said_," he grouched, "That this stuff is pretty good." Johnny glared defiantly at Cap, as if he was extremely offended that he hadn't understood what he had said. Then Johnny turned to Roy with his eyebrows raised, like, _Well? Aren't you gonna back me up?!_

Roy sighed and got on with the parenting lecture. "Johnny, you need to be more respectful to Cap," he began, "You know, he _is_ your boss—"

"Yes, Roy, I _know he's my boss_," Johnny snapped, interrupting the senior paramedic.

Roy looked perplexed; usually John listened to him—Cap just looked bemused.

"And now, if you gentlemen will _excuse me_, I have to go _do_ something!" Johnny stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Chet Kelly burst into uncontrollable giggles, covering his mouth with one hand and looking like a total idiot.

"What's got him so sore at us?" Cap looked to Roy for answers.

"Beats me," Roy replied, "I haven't seen Johnny since last week—remember? I was on vacation."

"Oh yeah... OFF, BOY! OFF!" Henry, the station's current mascot, had made a spectacular leap from the couch to the table, and he then proceeded to lap up the rest of Johnny's chili before Chet could pry him off. Johnny sprinted back into the room, carrying a large book just as Chet fell to the ground with Henry in his arms, overcome by the dog's enormous weight.

"HEY!" Johnny swept up his chili bowl and stared at the inside in disbelief. "Who _ate this_!?" Johnny glanced up, and the first thing he saw was Henry and Chet tussling on the floor, Chet struggling to keep a hold of the suddenly manic animal. "OH, so it was YOU!" Johnny looked murderous.

"No, wait, Gage, you've got it all wrong—" Chet looked terrified.

Johnny let out a spectacular scream of hatred and threw himself to the floor, where he grabbed a hold of Henry's collar and dragged him to the couch with surprising strength. The book lay on the ground, forgotten. Chet had a look of extreme relief on his face as he sat up and rubbed his shoulder. John continued, "You think you can just eat my dinner now, don't you?!" he snarled and shook Henry by the shoulders. "You think you can growl at me and take up half the couch and _eat my dinner, now_! Well—"Chet pulled Johnny up by the back of his shirt, fearing for Henry's life.

"Hey, man, take a chill pill!" Chet looked up at Johnny's face—a face contorted in anger. Johnny was _not_ acting like himself.

"Yeah, calm down." Roy looked very worried.

"_I-will-not-calm-down_!" Johnny cried in one breath, "Until that _mutt_ is taken _care_ of!"

Cap rose up out of his seat, looking stern. His anger quickly dissolved into concern, though, as Johnny collapsed to the ground and stayed there, heaving, on all fours.

"What's wrong with him?!" Chet put himself between John and Henry, continuing to care more about his beloved pet. "Is he having a heart attack or something?!"

"Uh… um… I don't really know….." Roy answered Chet distractedly while he laid John down on his back and took his vitals. "Listen, Cap, he's burning up. I'd say he has a fever of about one-hundred-and-two or so."

Roy drove Johnny to the hospital in the squad, looking pretty feverish himself. Chet, Cap, and Mike followed in the truck. Marco stayed behind to clean the kitchen…

"What's this?" he breathed, gently picking up the book Johnny had dropped, "'Two-hundred Spells For Man And Dog'?" Marco set the book on Johnny's dorm bed and thought nothing more of it…. Which is why he didn't notice when the book began glowing green.

* * *

"Well, he seems to be fine now," Doctor Brackett checked Johnny's pupil's for the umpteenth time. "Are you sure anything happened to him in the first place?"

Roy answered grimly, "Doc, he was practically rolling around on the floor by the time we could transport."

"You say his temperature was up to one-hundred-and-two?" inquired Doctor Morton.

"Yeah, yeah, it was," Roy tried to remember anything else that might be useful, "Uh… he—he was kind of… panting. You know, like, like a dog or….. uh, something like that, anyway."

Doctor Brackett raised his eyebrows, a clear warning: _any more_ _nonsense and you'll be kicked out of my hospital! _Roy did not want to get kicked out of the hospital.

"You know, Kel," Doctor Early persuaded, "This could have some weight. If John's turning into a dog, then we'll have to act quickly."

"Joe, don't be ridiculous!" Doctor Brackett rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "It is absolutely impossible for a _man_— _homo sapien sapien_, Joe, to turn into a dog—ancestor of the _wolf_. Things like that simply don't happen in real life. If you've been reading too much fiction, then—"

Dixie walked in just then, holding some X-rays and looking rather confused. "Kel," she said abruptly, cutting Doctor Brackett's rant short, "These X-rays show that… well, it's hard to believe, but it looks like Johnny had the brain of a _dog _in one picture, but then it turned back to normal in the second."

Doctors Morton and Early nodded in unison, with identical smug expressions on their faces. Doctor Brackett was horrified. "Have you gone _insane_, woman?!" he exclaimed, ripping the X-rays out of Dixie's hands. "You've been spending too much time with Joe—these are obviously X-rays of a human….. of a….. dog? Brain?" Brackett stared with disbelief at the X-rays, which clearly showed one dog, and one human brain.

"I do believe, doctor," Doctor Early commented unhelpfully, "That one-hundred-and-two degrees is the healthy, normal temperature for dogs. Is it not?"

"Oh, I'm, I'm sure it's not," Doctor Brackett said confidently, even though he had no idea.

"Doc, uh, does this mean we can leave?" Roy asked quietly from beside Johnny's bed, where Johnny himself was sitting, looking mystified.

"Oh, sure, sure," Doctor Brackett waved his hand nonchalantly in the air. "Go ahead, go far away."

"Kel," Doctor Early forced his unnecessary opinion upon them all, making Doctor Brackett smolder with fury, "I think that John should stay here, over night, at least, for more tests."

"_No thanks, Doc_." Johnny and Roy speed-walked out the door.

"See, Joe?" Doctor Brackett rubbed in his superior knowledge, "I was right. He's going to be fine."

The three doctors and one nurse walked back into the hall of Rampart, emergency. And they never could have guessed what was happening elsewhere….

* * *

Johnny woke up late at night in the station feeling vaguely uncomfortable. He squirmed and felt a thrill of horror: his body was smaller. Was he missing his legs? What had happened?! _Roy! Help!_ He cried out—but he didn't. Couldn't. He was speaking, but no sound was coming out! He writhed about, trying to get out of his bed—and fell to the floor in a heap. What was going _on_?!

Johnny willed himself—he willed with all his willpower—to make _some_ sort of noise, sound, anything to let anyone know that there was something _wrong_—"Bark!" Johnny froze, truly horrified. Then he came to his senses; it didn't matter _what_ the noise was, or _what_ it meant, so long as it woke up the guys…. "Bark! Bark bark bark!"

"What in the world…?" a half-awake Roy looked around the dorm and saw Johnny on the floor. "Henry, what are you doing in here?"

What? WHAT?! Johnny whimpered, and then he whimpered again when he realized what exactly had happened: it was the curse…

Ever since Henry had come to the station, they'd had it out for each other; the darn dog and Johnny just had nothing in common, and John found this extraordinarily frustrating—he couldn't explain it himself, but he just hated that darn mutt! And, the other day, Johnny had been shopping for a Halloween party—so he'd decided, for decoration, he'd buy one of those little curse books. He was bored all last Tuesday, so he decided to start reading it… man, he just got hooked on that thing! And he was so angry at Henry….. he'd tried a curse. Just one—it couldn't have done anything! But it had… and now he was suffering the consequences… the only cure were the tears of a dark-haired man.

Boy, he'd messed up this time.

"Well, uh…. Goodnight, then, Henry." Roy climbed back into his warm bed. "Unless you can tell me what Johnny's up to?" Roy added as an after-thought.

Oh, he could, he _could_! "Bark! Bark! Bark!" Oh, yeah, that'd be a _great_ help. Instead of trying to talk again, Johnny carried out the conversation in his head:

_I am Johnny, Roy. I am Johnny, but Johnny's body is probably lolling about on the couch._

_WHAT?! Goodness, John! It's really you?!_

_Yes, Roy! Yes! Please, help meee!_

_Sure thing, Junior. I'm getting Rampart on the line right now!_

Unfortunately, that wasn't happening. Roy was falling back to sleep, leaving Johnny completely and utterly trapped in a body that wasn't his. He tried to climb into his own bed, a few times, but his legs were too stubby and he couldn't reach. Johnny growled and slunk into the kitchen—and froze where he stood. Because Johnny wasn't just _standing_ in the kitchen—he was also sleeping like a baby on the _couch_! Johnny barked at… Johnny? Or was that Henry? Were there somehow two Johnny's, crossed into each others' lives by some strange, fantastical coincidence?

Johnny shook his head to try and clear it. Of course, he'd momentarily forgotten—there was only one Johnny, and that was he. Wait… did that make sense? Was that even grammatically correct? He whimpered yet again, hopped onto the couch and snuggled close to his own body. At least it was warm here….

* * *

The next morning was absolute chaos; even though he was offered breakfast several times, Johnny's body (let's just call it the Body from now on, all right?) did not reply, respond, or in any way acknowledge the fact that all the firemen were worriedly crowded around him.

"John, what's wrong?" Chet sat down beside him, quickly cupping his hand around the Body's wrist to take his pulse. "His pulse is slow…" Chet began, "And his respirations are—" the Body licked Chet's cheek lazily—"Aaaaargh!" Chet propelled himself off the couch in record time and sprinted into the garage.

"_Johnny_!" Roy was obviously horrified; he approached the Body cautiously. "John, what in the world is wrong with y—" Johnny flew into the kitchen with almost demonic speed and jumped on Roy, pulling on his cuff and occasionally letting go to let out a small _yip_.

"And now the dog, too!" Cap stared in disbelief as Johnny successfully dragged Roy out of the kitchen and into the garage after Chet. "_What_ has this place come to?! This world's gone to the dogs!" As if on cue, the Body rolled off the couch and stuck out his tongue.

Back in the garage, Johnny barked as he scrambled over to the supplies closet, nudged the door open with his nose, and knocked down the spare hats. He stuffed his dog-shaped head into one and stared up at Roy, willing him to know, to _see_ who he really was. Roy smiled and reached down towards Johnny, who's heart pounded—had it worked? Had it really worked? Roy reached down… and patted Johnny's head.

"And what's gotten into _Henry_?!" Chet emerged from the locker room, "I mean, this place has gone in_sane_!"

Johnny had to agree.

Just then, the klaxons sounded. Roy grimaced, guessing, or perhaps simply knowing, what was about to happen; "JOHNN Y!" came the cries from the kitchen. "JOHNNY, GET OUT HERE!"

Of course, the Body did not move. However, Johnny ran and leaped into the squad as soon as Roy opened the door. "Uh…" Roy stared at his partner—of course, not registering that it was Johnny. Meanwhile, Cap and Marco Lopez were dragging the Body into the garage and swinging his limp form into the fire truck. They rushed to the scene….

* * *

"Well, I'll admit that this is a _bit_ odd…" Doctor Brackett scowled around room one as he ironically ruffled the Body's hair.

"Kel," Dixie exclaimed, "It's more than 'a bit odd'!" she looked up imploringly into Brackett's face, "It's _bizarre_! Don't you see? There's something _wrong with him_!"

"All he did on the rescue was lie there, in the truck," Roy recalled, "Nothing could snap him out of—that's why we're here."

Johnny whimpered and huddled closer to Roy. This only seemed to give Kel another reason to complain, "And what's that _dog_ doing in here?!" Roy jumped in again—that is, into the dangerous and dark waters of conversation with an irritated Doctor.

"Well, Henry actually helped quite a bit during the rescue. He was the one that ran down a cliff to save three little girls."

"Not possible," Brackett said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Doctor Early interjected then, "See, Kel? Something wrong really is going on, and all you're doing is sitting there in denial. I don't think you're a good doctor at all. Doctors are supposed to be open-minded, but you're the most narrow-minded man I've ever met!"

"_WHAT?!"_ Brackett was truly overcome; he, the greatest MD in LA, fell over the Body and sobbed. And then a miracle happened…

"Gaaa!" the Body screamed. But it was no longer only the Body—it was Johnny again! Johnny's mind, thoughts, and bizarre, nonsensical feelings—but they were _his_ feelings! Henry—the dog, of course—collapsed in a small heap on the ground, back to normal. Johnny leaped up and bear-hugged Doctor Brackett—"Thank you! OH, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!" Johnny cried tears of pure joy, feeling infinitely grateful for little things, things like opposable thumbs and limbs over six inches long.

"What?!" Doctor Brackett stumbled back into the medicine cabinet. Then—"Ha-_ha_! You see, Joe?! I cured him! I CURED HIM!"

Roy and Dixie stared on in awe. The world—LA, at least—had truly gone to the dogs.

* * *

Back at work the next day, Johnny smiled as he petted Henry… until the rest of the guys came in.

"Oh, good dog. Gooood boy," they cooed, totally ignoring Johnny.

Chet turned to his coworkers. "You know something? This dog saves lives; I think Henry deserves some sort of medal."

"YEAH!" all John's former friends agreed.

After about ten minutes, as if noticing for the first time, Captain Stanley walked over to Johnny. "You feelin' alright? Good enough to work?" he asked.

"_Yes, Cap_," came the typically moody reply, "Otherwise I wouldn't have _come to work_."

Roy rolled his eyes and wondered why _he_ was always the one who had to deal with Johnny's outbursts. "You have to be more respect—"

"Dogonit, Roy! You think I don't KNOW that?!"

Henry chimed in; "Bark! Bark!"

Roy felt a headache coming on; one that was going to last a long, long time.

End


End file.
